


Calm me down

by SarkaS



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anchors, Cuddling & Snuggling, Feral Derek Hale, Fluff, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Not Beta Read, Sterek Secret Santa, Stiles Stilinski is the Wolf Whisperer, Wolf Derek, feelings no one talks about, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2733140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarkaS/pseuds/SarkaS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek gets hit by spell, because of course he does, and turns feral. Since he tries to attack every werewolf in the pack, Scott leaves him with Stiles, because he's the only one who usually manage to calm Derek down.  <br/>Also, cuddling and furry cuteness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calm me down

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for http://together-at-the-start-of-time.tumblr.com/.
> 
> There probably will be mistakes, since I'm still learning, I'm sorry for that. Hopefully you'll forgive me. :)

 

Stiles should be scared. He knew he should. But he‘s kind of… unable? Yeah. He simply can’t. Not when he saw the well-known form curled under his duvet. In some universe it probably could freak him out. But here he just sighed the moment he entered the room.

When Scott called him, he knew something went wrong with their plan. And _of course_ it went wrong, they dismissed his amazing safe-for-everyone plan and did this… thing. Stupid risky thing, and look at what happened. So typical.

Stiles snorted, but the shape under his cover didn’t move.

„Derek?“

With regard to his experiences this silence should probably calm him, but Scott sounded too freak out for Stiles‘ liking. And Derek’s frame looks way too tense.

So he’s not scared, but he’s not exactly relaxed either.

Stiles does two cautious steps closer to the bed and catches tip of the cover in his hand, lifting it just the tiniest bit up. Two pure blue eyes are shining at him from the darkness under the duvet. Unblinking, unmoving, and too predatory for it to be normal.

„Hey, big guy, how’s things? Heard someone‘s giving you a hard time, again,“ Stiles speaks, voice soft and as unthreatening as possible. There is no response.

When Scott called and said Derek attacked other betas, Stiles knew it’s anything but good. It also automatically made him one of few people capable of taking care of Derek. Scott as an alpha manages to control even feral wolf. Stiles on the other hand couldn’t do anything with feral wolves, but he could manage Derek. They have bond. Okay, they never call in it a bond, or acknowledge it in any way, but they are close, now. They talk a lot and Derek almost trips over himself every time he tries to protect Stiles from the stupidest really-not-that-dangerous things. Stiles in retaliation keeps Derek out of his broody guilt trips, while renewing his cultural awareness. Also they might be cuddle buddies but no one needs to know about that one. Not more that they already suspect.

But in opinion of… well, everyone, Stiles is the best option, when it comes to Derek, especially Derek forgetting how to be human. More than he normally does.

„Are you hungry?“ Stiles asks and in the dark one of the ears twitches. He suppresses smile and pulls cover aside a little. The best way is usually feed Derek. Fed Derek is tolerant, almost nice Derek. „What do you say? Burgers? I don’t even make you eat them cooked.“

There is few more second of lingering stare and unnerving silence, before Derek huffs and rise on his feet in one fluent motion, which shouldn’t be possible since he’s still half covered with Stiles‘ duvet and the mattress should make everything ten times more wobbly. _Werewolves,_ Stiles scoffs internally.

„You are so still in there somewhere, if burgers works on you.“

Stiles can’t remember why he ever thought Derek is a health freak, who eats only rabbit food and freshly killed venison. Derek adores burgers as much as Stiles loves curly fries. Maybe, if Stiles would be willing to admit it, even a tiny bit more.

Derek still looked stiff, when they got to the kitchen, but not on edge, so Stiles‘ freak out lessened a bit, while he rummaged through the fridge taking out two packages of burgers, he had for the Friday pack party. They can go with some pizza and Cheetos, they’ll survive.

„So,“ Stiles interrupts tense silence with his usual awkwardness, „any uncontrollable urges to maim an kill I should know about?“ He gets one low growl in answer, luckily more annoyed than angry. „Okay, I get it, no talking about maiming and killing. Probably not that helpful, right? Sorry, I said it again. Shutting up now.“

The thing is, Stiles is confused about this situation, because he always thought feral means uncontrollable and dangerous and angry beyond reason. This? This is like being in a room with dog in a bad mood. Or wolf, you know. Something. Even human Derek in a bad mood seems to be more dangerous than this version of feral werewolf and Stiles is really confused. Why isn’t Derek more like what he expected from half-crazy werewolves?

And maybe Stiles should sign up for some nice intense therapy because _what_?! Why would he wish to be in same room as a ‘properly’ rabid wolf? This is messed up beyond measures.

There is a loud huff next to his elbow and the next minute Derek is pushing his muzzle under Stiles arms trying to reach the meat.

The whole situation is just bizarre.

„At least you could wait until I cook some for myself so we could eat together,“ Stiles grumbles, while Derek ignores it and steals the closest burger. „Fine. Also you are strange.“

Derek gives him a lingering look of those blue _blue_ eyes and Stiles feel like he should have some big-bad-wolf run-pray-run feelings but there is nothing. Really, the only urge he has is to scratch Derek behind the ear and that’s probably in category ‘suicide’, not ‘self-preservation’. He sighs.

„Not bad strange, don’t give me that look.“ He hands him another raw burger. „More like you, coming in through my window with bucket of chicken wings and a Pacific Rim DVD, kind of strange. Unexpected. But nice. Are you suppose to be nice, when you get hit by feral spell? Or it just suppose to turn you into your opposite? Did it accidentally made you nicer version of you? That would be pretty cool-“ Another growl shuts him up, so he simply hands another burger as a peace offering and thinks about having a nice salad for diner because there probably isn’t enough burgers for both of them, if Derek keeps this up.

 

Scott calls somewhere between six and seven burger, more or less asking, if Stiles still has the same amount of limbs attached to his body. Or at least that how Stiles choose to interpret it. So he tells him that yes, he has all important parts of him still attached and Derek doesn’t act like beast let out of hell, actually he’s lying on the couch watching Stiles pacing through the living room, because he’s full of excessive energy he can’t really burn out while locked inside. And it’s too risky to take Derek out even if Stiles drove them deep into Preserve.

„Just tell me you have something, anything,“ Stiles pleads. He doesn’t have problem with Derek being here with him, but he would be calmer if he knew Derek isn’t going to attack his father the moment he walks through the door in... six hours? Yeah, give or take six hours.

„We are working on it, man, just hang in there. Deaton says he should be okay as long as he’s with you. Alone.“

And, _what_? First of all, Deaton says? Since when is Deaton willing to tell them anything? And second of all, why would Derek be harmless with Stiles? Is there something they are not telling him? Are humans in all packs used as sedative? Is it something they _do_?

„I’m so not comforted by this, you have no idea,“ Stiles snorts. He can almost see Scotts grin. He wants to punch him in it. „You are just lucky Derek doesn’t have the urge to K-I-L-L me like he used to, bro.“

Now is Scott’s turn to snort. „Yeah, like he ever had.“

„Bro! Did you forgot all those threats he used to physically demonstrate on me? Did you get hit by some spell, too?“

Scott sounds amused, when responding, „sure, Stiles. Just take care of him, okay? I need to go, Lydia says she maybe found something.“ And then there is click and silence before Stiles even manages to open his mouth in retort.

„Wow, rude much? Would you believe that?“ he asks Derek and wolf, luckily for both of them, doesn’t dignify him with an answer. With a sigh Stiles puts phone back in his pocket and then kind of hovers, not sure what to do. It’s not like Derek is exactly helpful with his watching and doing absolutely nothing.

And this is exactly the one thing Stiles hates most of all. Doing nothing. Maybe if they at least gave him more information, he could try and look for more than general information about spells. And _general_ on google means _useless_. So there goes that plan.

 

Two hours later Stiles knows he has no chance to survive until Scott comes with some solution. He’s going to die from boredom. Or, if he’s lucky, the next time someone knocks on the door and Derek’s tries to get to the door through him. The sure thing is, Derek _is_ feral. For everyone else it seems, at least. Stiles is not sure, who was the poor soul, who tried to approach their house, but he’s certain they are not going to try again. He’s surprised they didn’t call animal control, though, with all that growling and over all aggressive primal sounds.

But when they were alone, Derek calmed down and after an hour or so he seemed almost relaxed, lying partially on bed and partially on Stiles.

Stiles is not sure when exactly he lost all his self-preservation instincts and buried his hand into Derek’s fur, but his lucky star has to be working overtime, because he still has his arm attached and Derek doesn’t protest against that familiarity in the slightest. Actually, he seems to like it, positioning himself to make it easier for Stiles to scratch his other side.

„You’re heavy, you know that, right? Like seriously, you should maybe change the amount of burgers you eat. Lessen it. Or not,“ Stiles says quickly, when one eye shines at him under still half closed eyelid. Actually, wait. It doesn’t shine. It’s not that vibrant shade of blue anymore. Instead it’s Derek’s usual indescribable color. Plain and human.

„Derek?“ Stiles tries uncertain, because this is the first sign Derek is gaining some control. There is rambling content sound escaping from Derek’s throat. „Feeling okay, big guy?“ Stiles asks quietly, still scratching Derek’s side. The only answer he gets is Derek nuzzling, yes _nuzzling_ , into his belly, and closing eyes again, like this is the best place he can imagine to be.

„Sure, no need to move or letting me go to bathroom, make yourself comfortable,“ Stiles grumbles, but it’s halfhearted at best. He can’t deny (in his head, he would never admit it out loud) this is actually pretty amazing and he enjoys it. Having Derek this close, all calm and cuddly, does things to Stiles. His usual jittery almost isn’t there, and he can close his eyes and relax. Which is more than just rare feeling for him. He’s unable to properly relax since nogitsune, because he’s too afraid to lose control, if he lets his guard down. Now? He’s pretty sure he’s safe. At least right here and now, with Derek stretched over him like a furry blanket.

It probably shouldn’t surprise neither of them, when they fall asleep. Nor they should be surprised, when they wake up to Scott staring at them with unreadable expression.

„Dude, creeper much?“ Stiles croaks, watching Derek with only small bewilderment, as the wolf all but shoots from bed, growling, trying to scare that big bad alpha away. Or more like creepy but cute alpha, no one in their right mind would describe Scott as big and bad. „Derek, buddy, that’s Scott. Your alpha, remember? No need to eat him or anything,“ Stiles tries tiredly, but he trusts Scott, he’ll manage, and Stiles doesn’t need to actually move. He just wants to go back to sleep. Preferably with Derek next to him, because the wolf keeps him warm, like furnace.

There are noises and low growls, but none of it sounds like maiming and killing, so Stiles ignores it. Until Scott says, „we found a way, how to bring him back.“

That wakes Stiles as good as bucket of cold water.

„You did?“ He internally winces over how surprised his voice sounds. He probably should have had more trust in his best friend, but he’s used to be the one who finds the solution for majority of their supernatural problems. Mostly because Deaton never gives them more than pair of raised eyebrows and some mysterious adage. Stiles said it before, and he’s saying it again: Deaton sucks. And Lydia mostly doesn’t care unless lives are threatened.

Derek doesn’t seems convinced, but when Stiles grabs fist full of his fur, he gives up on being all scary and hopes back on the bed. He stays between him and Scott, though.

„Yeah, we did,“ Scott nods, eyeing the almost non-existent space between Derek and Stiles. „It’s actually pretty easy. He needs his anchor to bring him back.“

Stiles furrow his brows in confusion. Isn’t Derek’s anchor anger? So why he just spend day calming him down, if they need to piss him off instead?

He didn’t notice he’s talking out loud, until Scott huffs out annoyed breath. „Come on, man. You can’t be _that_ dense.“

„Huh?“ What he’s talking about. Also, that‘s rich coming from Scott.

„ _You_ are Derek’s anchor. Why did you think I brought him here? You are the best way to calm him down. Just rub his ears or something and he’ll resurface. At least Lydia said so.“

Beg your pardon. Stiles blinked. „I’m what now?“

Scott just gives him that look that means he’s judging him. Hard. And come one, he’s not that horrible! This is all just very- very- well, it’s not _that_ surprising, if he should be honest with himself. It actually kind of makes sense. A little.

„How long?“ he asks, resigning at all objections has hidden in his sleeves.

„If you keep up this active cuddle therapy, I guess he could be okay by morning? By noon, if he takes his time.“

And- And Stiles actually doesn’t have anything more he wants to say, so he just nods, knowing Scott gets it, and drapes his right arm over Derek’s lying form. He’s half way to burying his face in the thick black fur, when he speaks again. „You are the one who explains this to my dad. I don’t want him to have a heart attack the moment he comes home from work.“ He can’t really see Scott grimaces, but he can imagine from his sour agreement. He isn’t a terrible person, if it warms his heart a little, is he?

 

Scott’s right. Stiles knows it for sure when he wakes up and his arm isn’t draped over furry body. Instead it‘s very firm body. All muscles and warm skin and dark chest hair. Very much naked form, he realizes after second.

Stiles opens one eye just the tiniest bit, and internally breaths out in relief, when he sees Derek is still asleep. Awkward mornings. He had his fair share in last two years, but he’s not sure if this one is going to be another one fitting in his collection. He kind of wishes for it to be anything but. In the end yesterday was one of the best days he had in last decade. Definitely the most relaxed one.

Derek stirs, like his subconscious is well aware of Stiles staring. And just because of that Stiles doesn’t miss the small smile tugging on corners of Derek’s lips. Stiles can swear on his soul he never saw this smile on Derek’s face. It’s not like Derek doesn’t smile, because he does. He smiles and laughs with pack so much more often than Stiles ever imagined he would. But this is a new one. Content, achingly sweet smile, Stiles didn’t believe it could even exist. And it does. Dear lord, it does, and Stiles wants for it to never go away.

But then Derek awakes for real and his whole body stiffens.

“Morning,” Stiles tries to sound casual, because this is so not their first morning together. Except it feels like it is.

“Stiles.” It sounds half like accusation, half like awe.

Stiles ignores it in favor of both of their dignities and rolls over to the edge of the bed, out of Derek’s reach. Not like Derek is reaching for him or anything. Or that Stiles wants him to. And if he does, well it’s not gonna be the first thing he wants he’s going to ignore, right? He has practice in it.

“Feeling okay there, big guy?” he asks still turned to Derek with his back. He doesn’t need the picture of naked Derek lying in his bed with that hopelessly adorable confused expression he probably has on his face right now.

“Stiles?”

“I’m gonna take a leak, you have some clothes in the closet.” He’s acting like a coward, he knows it, but he has limit for how much awkwardness he can take right after waking up. They can talk over breakfast with Stiles’ brain at least partially functioning. With this he leaves Derek in his bed and hides in the bathroom.

He does not expect Derek joining him halfway through his morning routine.

“You are not angry,” Derek states with surprisingly quiet voice. Stiles turns to him with his toothbrush still wedged between his teeth. He probably looks like he has rabies with the toothpaste foam everywhere.

“’hat?”

“You aren’t angry I didn’t tell you,” Derek clarifies. Or he thinks he clarifies.

“’bout ‘hat?” Also, rude, couldn’t Derek wait? Stiles could be naked in here for all he knows. At least Derek is wearing pants and one of his old dark blue Henleys, now.

“About you being my anchor. I thought you would be angry to find out you’re the only one who didn’t know.”

And yeah, Stiles knows from where this one comes. Maybe few months back? He probably would be, but they are in different place now. So he spits out the toothpaste and shrugs.

“Nah, man. That’s you choice. It’s not like it changes much.” And that’s a lie. It changes plenty. But not the important things, he corrects himself silently. He’s still here for Derek and Derek is still here for him. They got each other’s backs.

“It doesn’t?” Derek asks and Stiles aches because of how uncertain Derek sounds. So he smiles, and hands Derek his own toothbrush he has in the same cup as Stiles for almost a year now.

“It doesn’t,” he confirms with a cheeky wink, because this not the right time for a serious talk about how different some of his feelings seems to be, now. How much sharper. Bigger. They will get to that eventually. When Derek takes his toothbrush with a small smile, Stiles feels like everything going to work out just fine. “Pancakes?”


End file.
